The Origin
by Pinewoodpine
Summary: When someone from the modern world was pulled into the vast dimension of Eberron, he found himself possessing the most lethal weapons one could have. R&R please! Rated T for future violence.
1. Prologue: Rebirth

Disclaimer: I do not own D&D or Eberron. The rest I do own.

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Prologue: Rebirth

A black shadow, glimpse of violet rays descended from the dark sky.

The river flows through quietly, silently under the purplish light. A small wooden boat floated upon its slow-moving surface. A black mist covered everything, everywhere. The only thing that one could hear is the calm sound of rushing water.

Every now and then, a curtain of silverfish light would flash down, showering upon the unfortunate drifter lying helplessly, hopelessly on the boat, floating down the river in an endless tunnel of darkness. His eyes opened, staring into the dark heaven, into the source of the purple lights, into the glowing curtain of white. In his hypnotized-like state, he was deaf to the dead and to the world around him.

He was blinded, blinded from the truth.

He was deafened, deafened by the lies.

He wanted to hear nothing, to see nothing. There was no escape from the realities within the illusions. The words still echoed in his ears.

"_A_ _player that can no longer play the game deserves nothing but a game over_."

A faint smile appeared on his pale face. His black eyes looked at the endless stretch of darkness, and he listened to the low whispers of the flowing river beneath him, his right arm stretched towards the end of the boat, dunking his hand into the cold water. He could sense the coldness running through his hand and flowed into his heart.

After what seems for an eternity, he closed his eyes once more and lay there, waiting. His white shirt was covered with a crimson liquid, while he was still wearing his blue jeans with its fading color. He never thought of this… Dying when he should be playing sports with the guys back home, when he should be studying at school so he could get to a nice college after high school, when he should be dating his girlfriend.

"You wanted life, isn't that right?" A feminine voice whispered to him, accompanied with a slight giggle, like a girl with a hidden mischief. The boy nodded his head so slightly that one could mistake it for an illusion, but whoever that had spoken noticed his reaction. Weak, and subtle.

"There is one way, but are you willing to receive this gift? There might be dangers…"

"Do I have a choice?" He answered with a wintry tone. He had been enchained by circumstances since he was young. Did he even have a choice? A girl's youthful laughter echoed within the darkness, and for a moment he thought he could sense the whole world around him rocking.

"Brave, but foolish. You don't understand who you are talking to, do you?" This time, it was the voice of a female. The voice of someone mature, just like _her_, soothing and deep. "Or _what_ I am talking about, do you?"

He could only smile as a chilling wind suddenly passed through, its haunting sound howled in the air. Again, the question came to his mind. _Did he have a choice_? He remained silence as the taunting continued. "You might as well leave that cynical world behind. After all, even the person you trusted most-"

"Shut up!" He yelled, his voice filled with rage and violence as he suddenly sat up and his eyes focused to the source of the light. He gritted his teeth as he felt the fury hidden so well in him, until the last moment began to stir. "You know nothing so stop talking like you know everything about me!"

"Silence." The voice said in a calm and clear voice. This time, it sounds like an old woman's stern utterance in his ears. "You just say you have no choice in the matter and yet you protested like a toddler when I stated my opinion."

A flash of white light descended from the sky and he quickly block the rays with both his arms. "So be at ease, my child. Be at ease." In that moment, he felt someone embracing him and someone's breath at his neck. He felt… warm.

"So sleep."

The light began to disappear as everything began to blur. His vision, his hearing, everything began to be clouded. He felt his energy leaving him, his strength and his sense of feeling. He wanted to sleep, but he was afraid, afraid of everything leaving him again, just like before. He was desperately trying to cling on something material. Anything…

"This time, you won't live in a false hope. So sleep." He could still feel that someone's embrace. He tried to hold the hands, but he felt helpless as his conscious began to slip away.

"I don't want to… again…" He murmured as he finally closed his eyes, his stable breathing was the only thing that was heard in the dark world. The 'someone' finally disappeared, so was the stream, the lights. Only the boat remained, but it too, slowly disappeared into the darkness, leaving only the boy in the stuff of darkness.

* * *

The towering figure looked at the twilight sky, her eyes glimmering with ancient wisdom as she gazed at the twinkling stars above. There was something unsettling about the Prophecy for the past few days, and the ancient silver dragon was quite shaken at the sudden change in the Prophecy. "By Io's name…" She growled in Draconic and extended her pair of great wings into the air, and folded them back promptly.

After all the years observing at the Prophecy, there she thought that it would unfold its secrets slowly… but the sudden change in its formation forced her to rethink her theories. The younglings were already complaining to the elders, saying that they must be more vigilante and they must act now before the great shift in the world began. For a moment, she stood on her four feet and her silver scales shook as she growled lowly and her trained eyes looked into the dark.

There, on the sands of the beach… A human was lying there, drenched in the salty sea water… The dragon shook her head in disbelief. Exactly what kind of foolish human had tried to reach Argonnessen this time? She had just about enough of intruders, especially when she couldn't figure out the little puzzle the Ring had just placed in front of her. She dived into the air with a quick and strong jump, unfolded her wings and glided her way in the cold air of the night. She would have a long, _long_ talk with the elders the next day about the recent intrusions by the lesser races…

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The boy opened his eyes once more, and the sight that welcomed him was the beautiful night sky, with twinkling stars all over. He had never ever seen such a clear night before… Never in his life. _Hell is much more beautiful than described in the Bible. _He told himself sarcastically. He could also smell the salty scent of the sea, and his left hand on the sand, the cold water washing it again and again. The chilling wind suddenly swiped over him.

_Hell is also _much_ hotter in the Bible._ He whined as he sat up, took a deep breath and stood up. Where ever he was now, the air was no doubt a lot cleaner than the city. "But I am supposed to be dead, aren't I?" He asked himself as he looked down his stained cotton shirt. The red was still there, never fading away. Just like the final moment of his life.

Suddenly, he heard a huge 'thud' behind him, and the sound of a creature growling behind him. _A lion?_ He turned around, slowly, trying not to stir whatever creature that was behind him. Then, he saw two huge eyes looking at him, with a big nose, and a_ lot_ of sharp teeth. The head began to raise into the air, and the boy took a few steps back as the creature unfolded its wings again. If he wasn't in such a state of shock, he would have been fascinated by the creature's beautiful silver scales…

The creature raised its gigantic paw into the air as he stood there, and a quick 'woosh'. He felt himself flying through the air and blacked out.

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Author's note:

Well, here's my first D&D fic. I was hoping for you guys to give me a few comments here and there and to correct me if I'm wrong. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this fic.


	2. Chapter 1: Winterfrost

Disclaimer: I do not own D&D and Eberron. But I do own the characters, and the items presented here. I am using a lot of custom items, feats, modified classes and such for this fiction and I do own them too (except the basic rules that was used to create them, etc.)

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Chapter 1: Winterfrost

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The night was a long one. The old dragonspeaker sat out his hut as the rest of the tribe were now in deep sleep, except those that were on guard duty of course. He wore a green tunic over his chest, and a pair of loose, long pants. He was bald, he was, and he proudly show the scars inflicted to him to the young ones of the tribe. His tanned skin had scars here and there, reminders of the good old times when he was serving as a frontal warrior, slashing the throat of the warriors of the Bringers of Fire with his trusty axe. After all, the Silver Scars are not weaklings, and they would accept any challenge.

As the old man was reminiscing of the good old days, a woman appeared before her in the most ravishing lights he had ever seen. The blue lights cloaked the woman who seemed to have something in her hands… As the light dissipated, the man quickly knelt down and looked to the ground. Pride and respect overwhelmed him.

"Mistress, what would you have of an old man like me?" He asked with the humblest of tone, trying his best to conceal the joy of having a dragon visiting his abode.

The woman clad in scalemail had long, beautiful silver hair that seemed to radiate a pure white light as they danced in the air; her cold silver eyes seemed to be able to penetrate what the old man is thinking. She smiled. "Stand up, Farligar. I have dire need of your skills." Her voice sincere and assuring.

"Of course, mistress." He stood up, and a look of surprise came across his hardened face. There was a boy in her hands and blood seems to be dripping of the edge of his lips. "Quickly, this way." He signaled for both of them to enter. As the woman brought the boy in, several guards with spears readied in their hands were running towards him.

"Dragonspeaker! We've seen the light and the strange-" Farligar raised his hand in the air.

"Both of you, bring me some warm water and clean cloths right now!" He pointed at the taller of the two patrols. The two guards looked at each other for a while, but decided to follow the instructions given to them. After all, if the Dragonspeaker trusted that woman, than she must be an ally. No reason to think beyond that.

When the old man finally went back into the hut, the woman already placed the boy on the bed beside the wall. _His_ bed. The silvered hair woman looked and nodded at him as she swiped the lock of hair away from the boy's forehead slowly. He looked paler than before and she feared for his life. After all, who knows that he would be foolish enough just to stand there for her to hit? Sane beings would have started running at first sight.

The old man walked over and checked at the boy's injury. He put his two fingers by his neck, and tore open the blood stained clothe, revealing a large black mark stained with blood, dry blood nonetheless. He shuddered. _Never anger a dragon, ever._ He quickly took out something from a small chest just beside the bed, and poured some solvent over the bruise. Instantly, the white mixture seemed to disappear and absorbed by the young boy's body. The black mark remained, but its color slowly washed away as time passed.

The woman nodded in approval as she put her palm on the boy's chest. She could feel his breathing stabilized, but his wounds were still severe. She was going to say something when one of the guards returned with the water and the cloth. With great efficiency, Farligar wiped the blood off from the boy's lips, face and chest. He did it with great care as not to worsen the boy's condition. After the care, he nodded to the dragoness and signaled for them to both leave the boy alone.

"Farligar?" The woman asked as soon as they left the hut.

"A few broken ribs at most. Bless the dragon gods that there doesn't seem to be any internal bleeding, or things would become much more complicated." The woman stared at him with shifty glances. He sighed. "He would heal in time, mistress Xenovia, but it would be wise to leave him at my care for now."

"I agree. It the others found out about the intrusion, we all know what would happen."

"The boy is so frail. I haven't seen someone who have the constitution of a girl and yet able to venture this far."

The mistress gave the Dragonspeaker a stare and crossed her bare arms at chest level. "Careful with your words, Farligar. I may have trusted you as a friend, but that doesn't mean I will allow you to speak ill about females. After all, females can be as competitive as the males."

The old man quickly knelt down. "I apologize for my choosing of words, mistress." His voice was still as sure as it would ever be. She sighed as she looked up to the ring of Syberis once more. The stars were so beautiful… So beautiful that you would not tire of them even if you looked at them for eons and beyond.

"I must take my leave now. I trust that you will take good care of him?"

"Of course." The man stood up, and hit his chest with his fist as a sign of reassurance. If there was one man that Xenovia trusted now, that would be Farligar. He had been her most trusted agent in making sure that the Silver Scars Clan would not fall into disgrace. Her silver eyes looked at Farligar one last time before the same silver light appeared underneath her.

"Take care of him. Do not let anything happen to him." Her voice began to become hollower as her figure vanished completely with the light. The Dragonspeaker merely looked into the night sky again, with the western pat of the sky showing signs of the coming of dawn.

"What have the great dragons discovered this time?"

* * *

894 years after the creation of the kingdom of Galifar and its split into the different regions, the continent of Khorvaire was once again plunged into a war known by the scholars at a later date as "The Last War." Many races and factions had risen during this time, crafting a piece of the continent for themselves. Humans even created a new race, the Warforged to aid them in the war effort.

The war itself lasted for one hundred years when Cyre, one of the greatest countries was plunged into eternal oblivion. Nothing was left of its great cities, but only eternal damnation. However, it was not officially over until The Treaty of Thronehold was signed two years later and recognized the various nations on the continent of Khorvaire. Warforged, intelligent beings in their own rights were also given the rights they deserved.

The Twelve Houses indulged in their own struggle for more power as they helped the continent to rebuild. The Twelve Houses were only there for more profit and discovery, completely ignoring the cost they had incurred upon the land they had been inhabit for hundreds of years.

The races on the other four continents have no interest in their petty politics, and let fate ran its course. However, a sudden change was discovered in _The Prophecy_, knowledge that had aided the dragons many, many eons ago. The dragons were no doubt baffled by the sudden change, but they had been taught patience. After all, a dragon can live longer than most of the lesser races combined.

As Destiny unfold herself slowly in her mysterious and graceful dance, would the races sing along to her tune, or would they try to stop her?

Our story started at this unsettling time, two years after the treaty was signed. Coincidentally, it was also two years since _his_ arrival…

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The warrior of the Bringers of Fire clan looked down at the boy standing in front of her. She had never seen someone that looked like a female in so many ways. Well, for males anyway. His shoulder was narrow that she can saw it through his choice of leather armor, got a thin neck, and looked like that a simple blow of sea breeze could blow him over. To make matters worse, his face make a woman's look like nothing. His black eyes clouded with trickeries, and that smirk of his… Was he making a fool out of her?

The barbarian let out a raging howl as both her hands held the axe tightly, gritting her teeth. Finally, anger got the better of her. "If you tried to irritate me, you succeeded boy!" As she crouched down lower to the ground gaining balance, she blasted off towards the stinking male after a second, her long, tied-up brown hair diving in the air furiously as her axe was swung towards him in a mere second.

"You know, you tried that just now." He taunted her again as he dodged away with a mere side step, the sharp edge of the axe was but a mere centimeter away. He could see the way she was going to swing even before she started dashing. The sun was shining brightly today, especially on the beach in Silver Scales territory. The boy gave the woman another one of his smiles as she dashed at her target with her axe again. The people of the two clans held their breath as the woman aimed for the boy's feet. She missed again, again by just an inch as the boy gracefully back stepped her attack.

This time, the boy saw his opportunity to strike at an opening. He threw the prized dagger he obtained from his mentor with trained aim, and the sharp blade of the dagger slashed at the right leg of the warrior before she could react. The weapon slipped into the white sands of the beach. She let out a groan and quickly let out another howl, her trusty axe by her side. _I _will_ win_. She thought to herself as the boy had no more weapons to be used against her. For a moment, she saw his lips formed into another mocking smile.

"That's it! I am going t-" And she let out a painful scream as a dagger slash through her ankle with precision, successfully crippling the warrior's movement ability. The dagger flew directly towards the boy and he skillfully retrieved the flying blade. She growled lowly as she painted her face with her own blood, now dripping down from her wound. She prepared to dive in again with her weapon, ignoring the pain but a furious warlord raised his hand in the air, signaling a surrender in this duel for supremacy. Her face looked in disbelief at her warlord's decision.

"The Bringers of Fire admit defeat this day! We _will_ come again!" He yelled out in anger, his face red with fury and embarrassment. He never thought the boy would be so agile and skilled than he looks. _Damn the gods_! He yelled in his mind as he recalled the scene this morning. When the boy declared that he would be one of the three gladiators in the duel, he thought it would be an easy win and reclaiming this territory would be child's play. Who would have thought that the blasted boy would be that skilled in the arts of battle? Bah! Next time he would bring him to his knees himself!

He continued his announcement in rage. "By the Master's name, this territory would be yours this year again! Now we leave!" And the fearsome, towering man clad in red armor walked away with the rest of his tribe following him, giving the Silver Scras clansmen a few shots of angry stares. The female warrior looked at the boy one last time, spit at his feet, and followed the rest of the clansmen. The boy merely shook his head in disappointment. He thought that the women in the Bringers of Fire clan would have better manner. That proved him wrong.

The people behind him cheered and all came to him, men slapping his shoulders and females trying their best to get hold of him. He was officially one of the clan's heroes now, and there would be nothing to stop them from loving him. At least that was what the younger females thought of him. As for the males, they thought of him as more of a woman than a man. Even his fighting style involved a dagger, instead of a more sophisticated bastard sword or a great axe. What the males don't realize was, he was cute, intelligent and skilled in the arts of war. Well, he was a bit short and small for a man, but you couldn't have everything in the world, right?

"Enough!" An old voice rung in the air as the celebration began without delay. However, her forceful command was more than enough to silence the young ones. The old woman's crooked and ancient body was completely covered in a silver white cloak, even her wrinkled face and pointy nose were only visible because of the light reflected off from the clear, blue water. She can be seen grinning too, however, like a devil. She faked a few coughs as the others finally turned their heads to her… and the large man beside him. He was significantly taller than the old woman holding a walking cane, and his bare chest and arms were muscular indeed. But his face was hidden behind a mask of a Silver Dragon made of silver and two horns stick out of its sides proudly. Even the mask of the dragon was grinning…

"Now, we will proceed with the Ceremony of Ascension." The large man spoke in his deep voice, but he could be heard clearly even to the people standing far from him. The clansmen immediately cleared out a path for the boy. He was no doubt filled with anticipation as he approached the warlord of the clan, trying desperately not to grin or laugh. He half knelt before the chief of the clan.

The towering man pressed his palm on his forehead gently and he looked into the eyes of the boy, no. Man, before him. "You have shown great strength, not only of body, but of soul as well. You have shown courage, fending for yourself and the clan. You have shown the true traits of a Silver Scars clansman." Now, silence dominated all of them. Only the sound of the washing sea and crushing waves remained.

"The Dragonspeakers of the Silver Scars clan and I have been given the honor to give you your name, to be reborn and to defend the shores of our dragon masters." The old woman reached for the narrow shoulder of the boy, hidden under the leather spaulder. The boy looked at the sand, his head hung low.

"As the representative of the council, I hereby grant you the name 'Winterfrost'."

The boy secretly grinned. He was finally accepted into the clan as a man. Not a boy, but as a man. He used to wonder what would happen in the future when he was still under Farligar's care. He had taught him so many about the world in the past two years since his 'rebirth' into this land. He never told anyone how he came to be here as it was not important. Only memories remained of that dark place. At least here, he could live without fear of the things of nightmare. _His_ nightmare.

He looked up into the mask of the warlord. "My name is Winterfrost." His young voice pronounced it out in English, or in this world, Common. "I am Winterfrost!" He yelled out with joy as the clansmen already began wielding their weapons in the air, making noises of celebration. He would forever remember the day Gabriel Balfourne died, and Winterfrost of the Silver Scars clan was born.

Not known to any of the lesser races below, a silver haired woman was listening to every word muttered. She was happy, now that the boy had found a home among the Seren. She was invisible to the naked eye, more so because she was under the protection of the _invisibility_ spell. She could rest well, after the two years safeguarding him. Her guilt began to lift up for wronging him in the first place.

Suddenly, she thought she saw the boy turned his head towards her. When she looked again, the people had already covered her sight. She wanted to dismiss what she thought she saw as an illusion. How could she have been detected while under the spell? She silently walked away as the clansmen began to marching off to their home, still troubled with the 'hows' in her mind.

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Author's Note:

Thank you for the review, and I will do my best to improve the quality of the story! Anyway, as promised, here's the stats for the dagger Winterfrost wielded during the battle. As for the leather armor, we all know that it gives +2 AC deflection bonus, no? chuckles

By the way, I hope my battle scene wasn't too bad written…

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Returning Dagger

The typical dagger has a pointed blade, as opposed to knife, which has a single edge and is a bit shorter than the dagger. Under the hilt of this dagger is a small crystal releasing a purplish red hue. Closer inspection reveals its nature as a small piece of Eberron Crystal, allowing the dagger to return to its wielder hand after it synchronized itself with a wielder's unique aura.

STATISTICS:  
Special:  
Returning:  
The weapon magically returns to the owner when thrown. When returning to the wielder's hand, if there is any obstruction, the dagger digs itself into it, dealing 1d4+1 piercing damage.

Damage: 1d4 +1 (Masterwork Bonus)  
Attack Bonus+1 (Masterwork Bonus)  
Enhancement+1  
Critical Range: 19 – 20/ x2  
Damage Type: Piercing/Slashing  
Weight: 1 lb.  
Feat Requirement: Simple Weapon, Small Blade  
Type: One-handed


End file.
